In the Darkness
by Suilven
Summary: What is there to be afraid of, in the darkness? Solona has one answer; Anders, another.


_A joint answer to the DAWC and Cheeky Monkey Halloween challenges._

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><p><strong>In the Darkness<strong>

Anders plopped down on the window seat, angling his body to sit length-wise across the plush bench. He leaned carefully back against one of the cold stone walls that framed the window, wincing in spite of himself. The welts on his back were still raw—he refused to heal them on principle; to make them disappear was to make how he had earned seem less significant somehow.

He would let them scar. He would remember.

The window pane was covered in a light drizzle, tears on the glass, which he could almost taste if he closed his eyes. Some day, he would be out there again; to feel the rain, the sun, the wind. In the fog that had condensed on the surface, he drew, with just the tip of his finger, a bare outline of tiger sitting triumphant amidst a sea of broken stick figures. It was enough to make him smile—for the first time in days—before he obliterated the image with a careful swipe of his hand.

The silence of the room was suddenly broken as a group of apprentices shuffled in, giggling and whispering, the sound stopping as they spotted him. They looked so young, so innocent, as they settled around one of the tables. A girl with dark hair, evidently the ringleader of this bunch, looked around conspiratorially before speaking, clearly deciding that he and the templar by the doors were no threat. "Now, who wants to hear about the ghost?"

Anders rolled his eyes as her entourage leaned in. The small boy at her side gave a shudder, but was the first to speak. "Tell us, Solona."

"Well," her voice dropped to a whisper, "they say she stands at the foot of your bed while you're sleeping, just watching you. She waits until you wake up, and then she crawls up the bed," Solona made grasping motions with her hands, "holding you immobile, until you're face to face."

The group had gone utterly still, watching her with wide eyes.

"What does she do then?" another girl whispered.

Solona took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before continuing. "Are you sure you want to know?"

There were cautious nods and a chorus of barely audible pleas for her to continue. Anders had to admit she was good at this.

"Okay. Don't say I didn't warn you. So, she's pressed her face up close to yours, and then she peels off her own skin, layer by layer, until her skull is exposed. And, when she's done…" Solona paused and the group collectively held its breath, waiting. "When she's done… she slides her cold fingers along your forehead and pulls your face off like the top layer on a bowl of cold soup, making herself a new mask."

There were murmurs of disgust and frightened mutterings. "That can't be true? Can it?"

"It is true!" Solona pressed her palms on top of the table and leaned forward. "You see, I am not who you think I am." Her hands rose to her hairline and she yanked at the skin there. It fell forward in a thin sheet revealing the gleaming white bone beneath.

It was chaos.

The apprentices were all screaming, chairs overturned in their haste as they ran wildly for the door. The templar chased after them into the hallway with a shout.

Anders sat up as Solona dispelled the illusion from her features. She looked at him and shrugged. "Gets them every time."

"I'd imagine it does."

He stood and stretched as she collected her books and left, the other apprentices' possessions still scattered across the table. It was close enough to dinner now that he might be able to sneak down to the kitchens and get something extra. The last few weeks on the road had left him perpetually drawn and hungry it seemed. As he stepped into the hallway, the templar marched up, returning to his post, and jabbed him in the shoulder with a hard metal finger.

"Hey!"

Anders stopped, his eyes wary. His muscles tensed, ready to run.

The templar lifted his helmet and sneered down into his face. "We're watching you. Don't even think about trying anything." He licked his lips slowly. "I know I would certainly have a use for… someone like you, who needs a little extra correction. You watch yourself, now."

Anders stood transfixed, afraid to move, as the templar slid his helmet down and sauntered back to the doorway. He could feel the man's eyes boring into him through the thin slit in the metal. Forcing himself forward, he made himself walk away. It was an effort not to look back, to see if he was being followed, but he knew the templar wouldn't be that stupid. No, it would be at night, while the rest of the tower slept.

He knew what happened in the darkness here.

Anders broke into a run as soon as he had rounded the corner and was out of sight. Even if he slept somewhere else tonight, what about tomorrow night? Or the next? It was only a matter of time.

Ghost stories didn't scare him.

Not when there were so many other things to be afraid of.


End file.
